


generosity

by Daydreamer5187



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Beating, Broken Bones, Captive Situation, Crowley Whump, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Holy Water torture, Hurt Crowley, M/M, No beta we fall like Crowley, Self-Sacrifice, They're already together, Torture, Whump, and so so so in love, for poor Zira, ineffable husbands, just a lot of pain, pre-canon AU, they're married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 11:00:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20526902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daydreamer5187/pseuds/Daydreamer5187
Summary: Aziraphale realizes something feels horribly wrong with the aura around his shop; where there was once the warmth of love now sits the icy chill of Divinity. He breaks into a run, hoping that Crowley - his love, his life - had enough time to hide.He was too late.Heaven came for them, and as he rushes into the bookshop he's forced to watch as his dear Crowley takes the brunt of their Wrath.





	generosity

**Author's Note:**

> So this was my very first Good Omens piece of writing ever, so I was unsure of it at first. It was posted at first to Tumblr, but after a bit of deliberation I decided to post it on here too. 
> 
> There's no really explicit trigger warnings; the archangels are very not nice to poor Crowley, but it's not very graphic and everything is in the tags. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Aziraphale knew something was wrong the moment he turned onto the street. Even from down the block the aura around the shop was usually so warm, comfortable, _loving_; even more so after he and Crowley got married.

Aziraphale twisted his wedding band nervously, his pace quickening.

Right now, the shop was anything but. It felt cold, sterile, indifferent. _Oh God_, Aziraphale realized, _oh God, it feels Divine._

The angel burst into a run, barely remembering to snap his fingers to miracle the door open and back closed in his haste to get in the shop. His husband’s name was just about to leave his lips when he saw him.

Gabriel, specifically, but there were others there too. He’d just happened to see Gabriel first.

Aziraphale froze, chest heaving - though he tried to hide it - from what he didn’t know. (He was almost certain it was fear, but acknowledging his fear would be to acknowledge that he had something to be frightened of, and the bookseller could not entertain those thoughts at the moment.)

Gabriel’s face split into a wide grin, his arms outstretching welcomingly, “Brother! It is so good of you to join us. We thought we’d come down for a little visit, see how you were doing...”

Aziraphale cleared his throat.

_Maybe Crowley felt them coming, maybe he hid._

“Yes,” he whispered, “it is good to see you after so long, Brother.”

“Not just me, everyone!” Aziraphale looked up, taking stock of all the angels in his shop. _Micheal, Uriel, Sandalphon,_ my, the whole lot had been summoned.

“Hello, everybody.” Aziraphale wouldn’t meet their eyes but that wasn’t new.

“Oh,” Gabriel started, like he’d just remembered some inconsequential tidbit to tell Aziraphale, “and look who we found!”

Aziraphale felt his stomach drop, and his non-essential heart stutter to a stop.

Crowley was pulled forward from where he’d been concealed from his husband, his wrists forced together in holy chains and a gag wrapped tightly around his mouth. His sunglasses were off, exposing his golden serpentine eyes for all to see, but not read.

His angel, however, was an expert in reading. What he saw was terror, terror and desperation.

Micheal gave Crowley a rough shove, throwing him to his knees. Aziraphale instinctually lurched forward, remembering himself only at the last moment and stopping. Crowley was sporting a blackened eye and split lip. The sight of his husband’s blood made the Principality’s own blood become cold with rage, but he could do nothing.

_We could be killed for this_, Aziraphale thought. It was one thing to say it and not care when it was a possible future, and another thing entirely when it stared at you in the face.

“You wouldn’t be hiding a demon, would you?” Gabriel’s stupid smile hadn’t dropped, he wasn’t expecting answers. No, he was just enjoying his power right now. “You aren’t _bedding_ a demon, disgusting creatures that they are, right?”

“N-no!” Aziraphale’s eyes met Crowley’s, which were so desperate for the angel to do whatever he needed to to survive; it still felt like betrayal. “No, he is my Adversary, nothing more. A foul fiend who-”

“You fool no one,” Uriel cut across him coldly. “He has one of those ridiculous rings on his hand, with your name engraved. You’ve one too, I can see.” She smirked, crossing over to Aziraphale and clasping a cold hand over his shoulder. She leaned in and whispered, “I can smell him on you, traitor.”

“Explain this to me, Brother,” Gabriel sneered. One of his hands came to rest on Crowley’s head. The demon glared hellfire at the archangel, lurching from his place on the ground as if to attack. The hand became a fist, tugging at Crowley’s hair and forcing his head back. That’s when Aziraphale saw the holy blade. “Explain to me, right now, or I’ll cut his throat.”

It was too much for the angel.

“No, don’t-!” His attempt to get to his husband was cut off as Uriel and Sandalphon grabbed his arms and wrenched them behind his back. “Gabriel, _please_. There’s - there’s really no need for all the - all the theatrics...”

The blade traced the curve of Crowley’s jaw, his neck, just barely against his skin like a lover’s kiss.

Crowley grunted, glaring angrily at the archangel. His neck was becoming sore and his jaw had been forced open for far too long. But most of all he was scared, he was terrified in fact, not for himself but that Aziraphale would be killed trying to protect him.

“That’s not an explanation,” Gabriel declared, nodding at Michael.

She backhanded Crowley hard enough to force him off balance. Aziraphale gasped for the gagged demon, struggling to get forward.

“That’s a warning, Aziraphale. I’ve already told you what I’ll do, so you better give me a _great fucking explanation._” Gabriel huffs a laugh, cutting off any more pleading Aziraphale was about to give. “That’s the explanation though, isn’t it?” The archangel continued to chuckle, evidently thinking his thus-forth inside joke was hilarious, “it’s ‘_great fucking._’”

“How dare you-” the angel sputtered, expression quickly morphing to anger.

“It’s evident to everyone present that it’s true, do not speak to us of what we _dare_ to do,” Michael hissed.

“But I suppose we can forgive one temptation,” Sandalphon added, smirking. “This is after all, what’s happened, yes? The demon Crowley tempted Aziraphale.”

“Yes, I think you’re right,” Michael agreed, equally smug.

“For-forgive it?” Aziraphale asked timidly.

Uriel tightened her grip, “Heaven is after all, supposed to be forgiving.”

Gabriel caught on. “Indeed, it’s not your fault Aziraphale. We will simply dispose of the demon, and you can go on your merry way.”

Any semblance of hope was dashed from Aziraphale’s heart.

“Now there’s no - there’s no reason why we should be so hasty.”

“It’s really quite simple; if the demon tempted you, you are nullified of guilt,” Michael assured, flashing a smile that sent ice through Aziraphale’s veins, “if not then...” she shrugged.

Crowley’s eyes had become wide at the offer, his husband could live through this. He wanted to meet Aziraphale’s gaze but his head was still wrenched back, he wanted to tell him to take the deal.

“Three seconds for the explanation or I kill the filth and we consider it over.” Aziraphale wasn’t sure he hated Gabriel, until that moment, when he sentenced Crowley to death with a bored look on his face. “Three.”

“I-I can’t-”

“Two.”

Crowley was begging Aziraphale to condemn him, to save himself. _Not for me angel, don’t die for me_.

“One.”

The blade rose.

“No, wait!” Aziraphale cried, sagging in his captor’s grip. “Don’t... I love him.”

Crowley felt the familiar edge of despair suffocate him at the angel’s words. He closed his eyes, so that the prickling of tears could not be visible to the bastard holding onto him. Aziraphale continued to condemn himself, past the point of caring.

“He didn’t tempt me, he married me. I fell in love with him, he didn’t do anything, it was me.” Something splashed against Aziraphale’s cheek which he supposed must be tears. “Please, just let us go.”

There was silence.

And then there was pain.

Crowley fought harder, made more attempts at noise from behind the gag, he drew all the attention back to him as soon as he heard flesh hit flesh and Aziraphale’s gasp of pain.

“Stay still,” Gabriel snarled, flicking the knife just enough to nick Crowley’s chin and send a cascade of ichor down his neck.

“Please, just let us go,” Aziraphale repeated, all too aware of his husband’s blood. “We won’t - we won’t bother you at all, we haven’t until now... please, be reasonable.”

“Reasonable?” Gabriel scoffed, “you have just confessed to fucking a demon, to _loving_ a demon, and you ask it of me to be _reasonable_.”

He let Crowley’s head up, finally, only to push him forwards in an even more degrading position on his hands and knees, held there like a dog by Gabriel’s shoe.

“Look at him Aziraphale, this is where they belong. Demons are evil, filthy, corrupted creatures, who had the Grace of our Lord and threw it away. And you, you are traitor to the Host by being in some sort of disgusting _relationship_ with it.”

Aziraphale’s eyes flashed with anger. “You don’t know my husband, you know nothing of what we have, and if I am to die for loving him I will do so gladly. Eternity is nothing to me without him.”

“I cannot believe you thought that participating in such a meaningless human ceremony would forgive you the sins you’ve committed,” Michael taunted.

“We didn’t,”Aziraphale said softly. Crowley’s golden eyes finally found his angel’s, and together they shared the moment, Aziraphale spoke more to his husband than their captors. “We did it because we loved each other.”

“Well look at where your love has gotten you,” Gabriel sneered, stomping upon Crowley’s back and forcing his face into the carpet.

Crowley shouted angrily from behind the gag, twisting his back and kicking viscously at Gabriel’s leg. (He was extremely flexible when he wanted to be, in part because his other form was a snake and in part because he could not imagine such a silly limitation as stiffness.)

“Feisty,” Sandalphon commented. Gabriel shot them an annoyed glare and straightened his suit.

“Pathetic,” Uriel corrected.

Michael rolled her eyes and pinned Crowley’s leg down and still, watching as Gabriel let a grin stretch his jaw as he smashed his heel down on Crowley’s lower leg with all his might. The demon screamed, muffled as it was it was still enough to draw a shout from Aziraphale.

“_Stop_-!” He fought desperately for purchase, tears flowing unchecked from his eyes. “Leave him alone! You’re here for me, hurt me!”

Crowley’s leg was bent wrong.

Michael and Gabriel shared a smirk before Michael gripped Crowley’s hair and slammed his head into the floor. His head came back up oozing black ichor, his nose obviously broken.

Aziraphale shook his head, like he could will this awful situation away, like he was dreaming some horrible nightmare. His breath hiccuped into a sob.

Gabriel started kicking the demon’s stomach, ignoring the angel’s cries.

“Stop it! Gabriel, _please_...” Aziraphale tugged uselessly on the restraining grips of his comrades. “Stop it!”

Something snapped in Crowley’s chest and he screamed again, this time trying desperately to cough but being forced to choke on his own blood by the gag. Aziraphale could see how the white fabric had begun to turn black. 

“I’ll Fall! I’ll die! I’ll do whatever you want me to do just _leave him alone_!”

The room stilled.

“What did you just say?”

“You heard me; kill me, cast me out of Heaven, I don’t care, just let him live.”

Crowley threw his dignity out the window, shaking his head and screaming at Aziraphale that _no, he can’t do this, he isn’t worth his beautiful angel’s life, or wings._

“What if we need you alive?” Gabriel smirked, blessedly stepping away from Crowley for the moment.

“There’s a war coming, Aziraphale,” Michael continued coldly, “the war against Hell, to end all things and finally settle our score.”

“Y-you mean...?”

“Armageddon approaches, yes.”

“And we need all the soldiers we can get,” Uriel added.

“So we’re not going to kill you,” Michael concluded. “The demon however... Well, that’s just getting a head start.”

_No. No, no, no, no, no._

“No. No, I won’t fight if you do, I won’t.”

“Chain him to the desk,” Michael barked, ignoring Aziraphale’s protests. “Gabriel and I will deal with this.” She nudged Crowley with her shoe, smirking when he groaned in protest as one of his snapped ribs jostled.

“No, no! Let me go! Let us go!” Aziraphale struggled with everything he had, desperate to get to his husband. He felt Uriel and Sandalphon pull him towards his desk, felt the holy metal enclose his wrists, but worst of all he felt his heart break. “Crowley! Please! _Please_! Don’t!”

Crowley was yanked onto his feet by Gabriel, and when he met his husband’s eyes his own were clouded with pain, fear, anger, love.

He repeated the same sentence over and over, tapped his wedding ring incessantly, and then pointed at Aziraphale. Wrecked as he was, the angel understood.

“I love you too.”

It was all he could say before his husband had been pulled from the room, but it was the only thing he said that mattered.

Unlike Crowley, Aziraphale’s wrists were chained behind him. When the grips on his arms fell away he was immediately struggling to escape, and thus, sustained a considerably painful injury as he wrenched his shoulders back.

What’s worse, that over his own crying Aziraphale could hear _the sounds_. He heard with horrifying accuracy Crowley’s body hit the floor as they (presumably) beat him. He heard his husband scream in agony, and evidently they’d decided to remove the gag. And then he heard nothing, which was perhaps the worst of all.

He felt nothing too, like Crowley’s essence had been cut off from him, like he was-

Michael and Gabriel reentered the room just in time to see the angel sink to his knees in desolation, silent sobs wracking his whole body. The holy blade left a trail of fallen ichor as they walked.

“Chin up, Aziraphale,” Gabriel bellowed, slapping a hand against Aziraphale’s shoulder, “no more distractions.”

Aziraphale spat in his face.

Gabriel’s expression never changed but his eyes did, they became even colder with fury. He struck the angel across the face, hard enough to throw him to the ground, and then carelessly threw the key against his cheek.

“For the chains, you pathetic excuse of an angel.” He turned to leave, throwing his head back towards Aziraphale and adding, “Oh, we left you a present back there. Better clean it up.”

And they left.

But the love didn’t come back to his flat.

Eventually, the angel found the strength to unlock himself from his chains, but he could’ve sat there for the rest of his existence and not cared. But he had to take care of Crowley.

So he dragged himself to the back room, readying himself to see- to see his husband’s corpse.

What he saw when he got there though, it took the breath from his lungs.

Because Crowley was there, and he was _alive_.

Terrified, wet, pained, and _alive_ eyes stared at him from their place on the floor.

“Oh my God,” Aziraphale breathed, snapping from his reverie and collapsing at his husband’s side. “Oh my God, oh my God, _Crowley_.”

The chains came undone and Crowley collapsed into Aziraphale’s arms. The angel tore the gag away from his husband’s mouth, throwing it to the side hysterically.

“Darling,” he cried, waving his hand over the demon’s body to assess the damage. “What did they do to you?”

“H-hey angel,” Crowley breathed shakily, smiling despite the pain. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you...”

Aziraphale gave him a watery smile, running his fingers through his hair gently. “Hush now, let me help you.”

The angel could see the glowing sigil carved into Crowley’s shoulder blade, it was what made his aura disappear, it disconnected demons from their powers, from Hell even. It was excruciating.

There were so many hurts on his husband’s body, it was a miracle he wasn’t discorporated.

Aziraphale picked up a plant mister curiously, freezing when Crowley’s grip on his hand tightened and he strained to choke out a few more words. “Careful, love,” his husband ground out, “dilute holy water, my feet...”

There were few words in any language that Aziraphale knew that could describe his disgust and heart break at Heaven.

On a mission, Aziraphale healed first the sigil, gasping in relief as Crowley’s aura burst forth, and then his feet. He had to take a break afterwards, having spent most of his energy.

“I’m so sorry,” Aziraphale cried gently, “I’m so sorry Crowley. If it weren’t for me they never would have-”

“Don’t blame yourself, angel,” Crowley croaked, “I’ll hear none of it. I love you too much...”

“I love you too. Alright, hold still while I-” Crowley caught the angel’s hand before he could grasp and heal his wounds.

“Too much,” he rasped, “it’ll hurt you. Just wait, help me to bed. Now that those dammed chains and sigil are gone I’ll be able to do it myself soon.”

“I’m not going to let you lay there in pain when I can do something about it.” Aziraphale was outraged at the very notion.

“Not askin’ you too. Jus’ askin’ you t’wait,” the demon slurred, slumping slightly against his husband’s chest.

“Fine,” the angel conceded, taking a moment to just hold the demon to his chest. He’d never take it for granted again.

Later, when Crowley was asleep in their bed, and Aziraphale was painfully cleaning up the wreckage of his bookshop, he stumbled on a letter he was sure wasn’t there before.

Heavenly ink swirled against the pages, making Aziraphale nauseous.

_Aziraphale,_

_We hope you like our gift; we trust you remember that we may not always be so generous. Especially with the oncoming war._

_We excitedly anticipate your efforts to the war, in the service of our Lord and Mother._

_Take care._

_Gabriel._

**Author's Note:**

> There it is! I absolutely adore Aziraphale's and Crowley's relationship, it's just so loving and protective on both their parts. 
> 
> Please, please, please, consider leaving me a comment; they absolutely make my day and feed my muse and just in general the love and goodness in the world that Zira would appreciate. <3 
> 
> If you want to check me out on Tumblr, here is a link - [click here!](https://just-two-married-celestials.tumblr.com)   
Come say hi, send me an ask, anything! I love this fandom and its positivity so much!


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